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Via Vill Poem
You say we have it easy,
Our lines are getting cheesy,
Insecurities and nobody hears me,
We are rotting in this world,
Trees are burning with the squirrels.
We are dying with the standards,
Kids are starving into scanders,
Cutting became a joke,
Everyone is dying left and right,
Dropping from height,
Suicide takes the bite,
We are blinded be the new,
Everything is blurry.
In this world we call “glory”.
Copyright © Via Vill | Year Posted 2025
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